MeowScorpii
@MeowScorpii
13 Years
Comments: 57 · Posts: 456 · Topics: 7
Morning sun.
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Why do I still love you? Why do I love you? Is what I ask myself all the time It makes no sense in my head at all,
I did not speak for you today. Could not. would not. I held your loved ones tight. Let my tears mingle. Crystalline
To someone retired, can you end with happy holidays? Remember, they have assured you they are thoroughly enjoying t
NOBODY LOVES ME I MUST SAY GOODBY NO ONE ANSWERS MY POST NOT EVEN THE GHOST NOBODY LOVES ME I MUST GO AWAY BUT BEFORE
SO SAY THAT I SHOULD MARRY. I SAY ITS WAY TO LATE. SOME SAY I NEED A WARM WOMEN TO KEEP SAFE AT NIGHT. I LAY ALONE IN
I will hold your hair back when you vomit Hand you tissues when you cry I—ll laugh with you and share your grief Un
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting i
Don't you ever think That when you are away I do not have you in my mind Cradled in my hands Beating with my heart
What causes an honest man to tell a bold face lie? What causes a heartless killer to sit in a 6x9 cement confine and
I slip a white hand reverently over the calm glass of the water Palm out my fingers gently stroke the surface, breaking
(a nothingness I wrote this morning, and have no one to share with.)
In the morning I can feel my body aching, my young frame aging ever so gradually. I outstretch my arms and notice how my bones creak, touch my face and wonder how long it will take for my skin to fold and crumble.
The sun beckons me every morning, and softly creeps over me, leaving traces harmony and unmistakable, natural warmth. Feeling invited by the sun I step out side, not a thought in my head. Sleepy, dreary, and dusty.
Standing up on my tippy toes, I do a pretty, delicate twirl that no one can see- and will anyone ever understand it? The effortless things we do when no one is looking, when we are completely at ease and one with silence.
The sun kisses me once again, igniting my hair and turning it into a burning, golden spectacle as it falls in a veil over my eyes. Everything is spinning and glimmering around me, I'm whole, I fill up every empty space inside me. I remember passion, my body easily moves. My veins now look an enchanting translucent lavender- my blood smiles as it's lit by the nostalgic sunlight, it is a reminder of my consciousness and mortality.
This moment I feel beautiful, I at least seem beautiful. No one knows, but I keep myself locked in a garden- my thoughts are always yearning for the morning sunlight. When I feel as if I'm a little girl again, nothing weighs down or pulls me. At bliss, in spite of myself.
I digress, it's these moments so many of us when so many of us remember what it feels like to exist, we rush and hustle, all for nothing. We spend our time without thought of how it constantly fritters away. Always we are alive, breathing, and saying with conviction that we live for success. In the solitude of lonesome reality, we are isolated. We question ourselves eternally- never quite discerning whether each instance means anything at all, never knowing if we were really meant to do the things we were told to before we fade away, out of presence.
When I pass away, the sunlight will shine in the same spot where I once twirled, where I was once full of life and bliss. When I fade out of human memory, the Earth will still know the essence of my steps, and the sun will recall how it once graced a girl twirling there with it's warm rays, brimming with vivacity.